


Picking Up Strays

by Calico (Calico321)



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din is decent, Gen, Mandothon, Pre-Season 1, Tumblr Prompt, and a cool uncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23594974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calico321/pseuds/Calico
Summary: Written for a request on tumblr and using the Mandalorian Ficathon prompt for Day 9: persuasion, protect (though it probably won't qualify due to the OC).-------“Stealing isn’t nice,” Din said evenly and lifted the arm a little higher so he could reach the pouch with his free hand.“Neither is starving!” the urchin countered in defiance.Din kept his hold on the child’s arm as he replaced the pouch, then looked back at them. “Do you have a family?”“Sure, mister. Just look around you.” They waved their arm grandly. “We’re all family. Can’t you feel the love?”
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	Picking Up Strays

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @Mandalore-is-the-way on tumblr who wanted some Din being soft around other children. Rated T for a brief allusion to child sex abuse.

The sun was setting over Coronet City as Din made his way against the throng of residents rushing home after a long day of work. He himself was tired and hungry and disappointingly empty-handed. The bounty had fled the planet mere hours before he’d arrived. So he had had to spend a long, tedious day tracking down known associates that would point him in the right direction.

He had finally gotten a destination after some less-than-subtle interrogation, and was headed back to the ship, only too happy to put Corellia behind him. It was loud, dirty, and overcrowded, filled with a small wealthy population that continued to suck the life out of its desperate, poor residents who worked for a pittance. To say nothing of the underbelly of crime lords and abject poverty. Din hated the place.

His stomach grumbled and he wanted nothing more than the solitude of the ship to relax for a few hours of flight and grab a bite to eat. This goal preoccupied his mind, though it did not completely dull his senses, as he immediately recognized when a hand snatched a pouch from his utility belt. Reflexes on point, he immediately grabbed the arm the hand was attached to and twisted.

“Ow!” a shrill voice cried out as Din turned to see a small, dirty human child of indeterminate gender glaring at him, hand still holding the pouch in the air. The eyes were wide in surprise and pain while the mouth stretched into a grimace of fury. A foot kicked out at him, but unfortunately for the pickpocket, it struck his durasteel-enforced boot. “Ow!” it shrieked again with an air of indignity. The rest of the pedestrians began to move around the pair in a wider berth, none wanting to get into the middle of the fracas.

“Stealing isn’t nice,” Din said evenly and lifted the arm a little higher so he could reach the pouch with his free hand.

“Neither is starving!” the urchin countered in defiance.

Din kept his hold on the child’s arm as he replaced the pouch, then looked back at them. “Do you have a family?”

“Sure, mister. Just look around you.” They waved their arm grandly. “We’re all family. Can’t you feel the love?” They cocked their head in an air of condescension as the people milling past kept their gazes pointedly away from the clearly wretched child. Their hair was matted and stuck to their head. Streaks of dirt decorated the round but gaunt face. Ill-fitting, ripped clothes hung off the thin frame. Din thought they were about ten years old, but they could be older but underdeveloped.

He could leave. He could just let go and allow the child to continue down this life of desperation until it finally ended in violence or starvation.

“Hey,” they said in irritation and made a few ineffectual tugs at his grip. “Let me go already. Or are you going to turn me in to the cops? I thought Mandalorians had their own code?”

“We do,” Din replied softly. “And part of that code is not leaving a child in danger.”

They scoffed. “Danger? I’ll be fine if you would just. Let. Go.” They punctuated the last words with harder tugs.

“You’re hungry,” Din stated flatly. “You don’t have anyone to protect you.”

“Don’t need no one! And I’ll get food, if you’d just let me get back to work.”

“Stealing isn’t work.”

“It’s a living,” they replied in a sing-song voice.

“Let me get you a decent meal.”

The eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Because you need it,” Din said simply.

“And what do you get out of it?”

“A gold star,” he said dryly while looking around. He saw a grungy sign for a diner across the street. “Come on.”

He led the child into the diner and sat them into a booth, sliding in next to them so they couldn’t bolt away.

“Hey,” they cried. “You can’t hold me here against my will.”

“Hush,” Din said under his breath as a server came over.

She eyed the two suspiciously, but said, “What’ll it be?”

“Whatever your special is. One for here, one to go.”

“Huh,” she said as she tapped the datapad in her hand. “Drinks?”

“Milk for the kid.”

“Not a kid!” the urchin groused.

The server lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “Sure. Anything for you, sir?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alrighty. Be right back.”

When the server had left, Din turned his body to look at the child again. They sat hunched in the corner glowering.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Why do you care,” was the surly reply.

“Because I do.”

The kid glanced at him from the corner of their eye. “Sam.”

“Sam. Short for Samantha or Samuel?”

“Just. Sam.”

“Hmm.”

“Look, if you want me as some sex toy…”

“What?” Din said in alarm. “No. Why would you…” then he remembered where he was and shuddered. “Have you…?”

“No! And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Din sighed in relief. “So would I,” he said gently. Sam turned to look at him more directly. “Listen. I don’t want to hurt you. I also don’t want to send you back out there. You should be some place safe. With people who will take care of you.”

“Wow, never thought of that,” the kid said with an eyeroll.

“There’s no place you can go around here?”

There was a scoff. “Only people who offer something want something in return. Nobody gives anything for free.”

The server reappeared with a tray holding a plate of food, a glass of milk, and a box. “Here we are,” she said as she picked up the plate and raised an eyebrow, not wanting to assume. Din nodded towards the kid and she set the plate down in front of them, along with the milk. She placed the box in front of Din. He pulled out some credits and handed them to her, telling her to keep the change. “Thanks! Enjoy.”

Sam sat still staring at the food. “Eat,” Din encouraged.

“What do you want?” The voice was small and vulnerable. Din could see the hunger in the eyes, but the wariness too. This kid’s whole life had been a series of transactions, and it angered him.

“For you to have a full stomach. Eat.” He pushed the plate a little closer and grabbed a napkin, which he tucked into the filthy tunic.

Sam just continued to look at him. “Why don’t you eat?”

“I will. Later, when I’m alone.”

“Why not now?”

Din sighed. “Because I don’t remove my helmet in front of others. It has nothing to do with you.”

The kid blinked. “Why?”

“It is the Way.”

Sam tilted their head to the side. “That’s dumb.”

Din groaned inwardly. “Just eat, please. Then we can decide what to do with you.”

The kid gave him a side-eye, but finally turned to the food. The waitress had brought a large sandwich and some fried tubers cut into strips. Din had to admit is smelled delicious and looked forward to his own. Sam grabbed up the sandwich and took a large bite, chewing open-mouthed.

“Close your mouth when you eat,” Din chided automatically, only vaguely aware he was parroting similar admonishments from a long-ago life.

Sam glared at him, but obliged. As they continued to eat, Din started to talk. “You know about Mandalorians?”

“Hmm? Yeah, who doesn’t?” Sam replied around a mouthful of food, and Din declined to reproach them again.

“Well, we have a policy of taking in orphaned children.”

An eyebrow raised as the kid swallowed a large bite of food. “A ‘policy’?”

“More of a creed, really.”

“Why?”

The questions. “Because it is the-”

“Way?”

“Right. In our culture, children are our future. We take in any that are in need and care for them.”

A hand waved at him. “And they have to wear the getup? Forever?”

Din shook his head. “You don’t have to. It’s a choice you make when you come of age. But until then, you would be protected and cared for. Given an education. Have other children to play with.” Sam blinked at him in confusion. “Play? You know what that is?”

“What the rich people do all day,” Sam deadpanned.

“What children should do while they are young,” Din replied softly. “They shouldn’t live in fear or desperation.”

Sam popped a tuber in their mouth and chewed slowly while watching Din, then took a large swig of milk. “Sounds too good to be true,” they finally said, pulling off the napkin and swiping it across their mouth.

“You have my word. Nothing will happen to you. Nothing will be expected of you. Except proper behavior and manners. And no stealing,” he amended. The kid smirked.

“That might be asking a lot.”

Din cocked his head. “Is it really?”

Sam turned to look out the diner’s front window. “Things look bad, but you know they can always be worse somewhere else.”

“They can get worse right here,” Din pointed out. “The next person that catches you might not buy you dinner.”

With a sigh, Sam turned back to him. “I don’t know why I should trust you. But I guess I do.” For the first time Din saw the wariness start to fade, and the innocent child inside emerge. Din thought that maybe they were even younger than he had estimated and it made his heart hurt.

“Will you come with me?”

“Yeah, I guess. What have I got to lose? But I probably won’t stay.”

Din smiled under his helmet and slid out of the booth. “Let’s take it one day at a time.” He grabbed his food and motioned for the kid to join him. Together they walked back to his ship.

______________________

A Year Later

Din entered the covert and passed over his most recent earnings to the Armorer. After taking his leave, he walked further into the tunnels towards the medic. The last few jobs had been particularly brutal and he was certain he’d ripped something in his left knee and likely had a few cracked ribs. Then he would retire to his small quarters and sleep for a cycle before taking off again.

However, children along the tunnels noticed his presence and began to excitedly gather around him, some tugging on his cap or hands. “ _Beroya_! Tell us a story! Tell us of your latest hunt. Did you bring us anything?” they begged.

Din sighed. He was frankly very tired, but the open, excited faces tugged at his heart. A few meters away he spotted a young girl leaning against the wall staring at him with a small smile. Once cleaned up, her hair turned out to be a soft light brown, and it was now pulled back into a ponytail. A toy blaster was strapped into a homemade holster at her hip – a gift from him after her nonstop questions about his own weapons on their trip from Corellia.

He led the children into the communal room and beckoned Sam in with them. She was still aloof and suspicious, but was slowly growing more comfortable around the tribe. Din sat down backwards on a bench as the children clamored up around him and even on the table behind him, leaning on his helmet.

Sam came to stand in front of him. “ _Su cuy'gar,_ _beroya_ ,” she said hesitantly.

Din smiled. “ _Su’cuy_ ,” he replied. “The Mando’a lessons are going well?”

“ _Ni_ _pirunir_ _sur_ _'haaise_ ,” she said with a grimace and Din chuckled.

“You’ll get it, _ad’ika_ , if you put your mind to it.” He nodded to the blaster. “How’s your draw.”

She grinned wickedly. “That I’m good at,” she said proudly.

“Let’s see,” he challenged.

She took a few steps back and spread her legs into a firm stance, hands held out and open. Then like a flash, her right hand pulled out the blaster and pointed at him. Her time on Corellia had honed her hands to fine instruments.

Din clapped. “Well done, _verd’ika_!” She smiled in shy pride and walked over to him. He held his hands out and she allowed him to pull her up onto his lap. “You’ve been behaving?”

She pulled up a shoulder. “You know. Nothing too serious.”

“She stole Paz’s vambrace!” a small boy on his right shouted.

Sam stuck her tongue out at him. “No one likes a snitch!”

“Easy, _ade_ ,” he said. To Sam he asked, “What do you think, _ad’ika_ , you still going to leave us when you’re of age?”

“Um, maybe not,” she hedged with a lift of a shoulder. She clinked his helmet with her finger. “Still not sure about this though.”

“It grows on you,” he said to her.

“Tell us a story!” a girl behind him whined.

“Alright, alright,” he sighed. “Has anyone told you about the mythosaurs of old Mandalore?”

END

**Author's Note:**

> Mando’a translations:
> 
> beroya – bounty hunter  
> Su cuy'gar – hello  
> Su’cuy – hi  
> Ni pirunir sur'haaise – it makes my eyes water (really hard)  
> ad’ika – little one  
> verd’ika – little soldier, private  
> ade - children
> 
> \---  
> Visit me on [tumblr](https://purpletangomintsprite.tumblr.com/)


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